


Hank Loves Jazz

by deathtothecrows



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Jazz - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Singing, Slow Burn, i dont know where im going with this but stay tuned anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathtothecrows/pseuds/deathtothecrows
Summary: After a trip uptown leads Hank to a jazz lounge, he discovers that the lead singer of the on stage band is quite the catch.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Hank Loves Jazz

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where I'm going with this but I intend to do multiple chapters of this, possibility later of writing sex scenes for it, but it depends how far I get.

It was raining lightly on the evening of October 27th, and Hank Anderson was looking for a drink. It wasn’t often that his job as a police lieutenant led him to fancier places uptown, but a recent homicide had brought him there, and now that it was over the man needed a drink. Badly. He could drive all the way downtown to Jimmy’s bar, but traffic on a Wednesday afternoon meant that it’d take him well over an hour to get there and frankly he needed a drink now. It had been one hell of a day. Hank unlocked his phone, scrolling through google maps until he found a jazz lounge a few blocks away that was sure to have what he was looking for: Quiet company and a dark glass to stare into. 

After about five minutes of walking beneath awnings of shops and pulling his coat up over his head, Hank arrived at the lounge. He glanced up briefly at the sign before going in, a bold splash of blue neon text in cursive letters. Silver’s Lounge. 

Once inside with his coat back around his shoulders Hank stopped for a moment, taking in the scenery around him. The lounge was one big room, chairs and tables scattered about in a long forgotten pattern on the floor, leather booths against any free wall space. To the right was the bar, fully stocked with a tall android behind the counter, cleaning glasses with a faraway look in it’s eye. In the very back of the room there was a stage, androids of varying heights and ethnicities played instruments upon it, all of them seemingly wrapped up in the music they were playing. It wasn’t a song Hank recognized, but was still very clearly of the jazz genre, with a hint of bluegrass in the mix. Hank cursed under his breath, he hadn’t realized that it was an android operated bar. Usually he checked for this sort of thing but it was the only bar in walking distance of where he’d parked his car (for free, which was hard to do in this city). He should’ve checked the website.

“Hello sir, how can I help you?”

There was an olive skinned android with startling green eyes standing at a kiosk that Hank had somehow not noticed up until that moment. It smiled at him in a not unpleasant way, and tilted its head slightly, waiting for his response. Not wanting to be rude, Hank said, “I’d like a table please, just for myself.”

“Of course sir, and would you like a menu?”

“Just one for drinks, thanks.”

“Right this way.”

The android took a small laminated menu from somewhere behind the kiosk, damn they still used paper menus here, and led Hank towards a small booth close to the stage. The room was pretty empty, save for a few world weary patrons here and there, nursing their drinks and gazing at the stage like it was the best part of their day. It probably was. 

“I’ll come back in a few minutes to take your order, unless you’re ready now?” The green-eyed android smiled at him again, with more warmth than Hank felt was possible for a machine.

“I’ll have a whisky on the rocks for now, but I’ll keep the menu, if that’s alright.”

“Of course sir, I’ll be right back with your order.”

The android walked away and Hank pulled off his damp coat, hanging it on the small coat hanger attached to the side of the booth, before sliding into the seat. He looked down at the menu, it was a pretty standard drink list, with a few house specials, just like any bar or restaurant. Hank found that the dim lights almost hurt his eyes as he glanced casually around at the other patrons, the cigarette smoke present in the air making the light seem more muted. Hank was never one for smoking, but a cigar or two every now and then was a nice way to unwind, and he’d smoked a fair amount of weed in his youth. Nowadays, though, he preferred the stronger pull that alcohol had on him.

Moving his eyes languidly across the bar, Hank spotted a group of three older men playing cards, murmured conversation between them only being broken by laughter at a joke told. A couple in a booth across the room were holding each other's hands across the table and staring rather lovingly into each other's eyes from his vantage point Hank could see that they were playing footsies underneath the table as well, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Even back when he had been married, Hank was never much one for PDA. He found it embarrassing, to have people see him so openly in such a public place. Though in a place like this he supposed there weren’t nearly as many people to worry about, and the lighting was dark enough that it probably wasn’t going to be paid attention to anyway. There were a few other people scattered around the room but they were all by themselves, the majority of them just watching the show. 

Hank had to admit, the music was far from bad.

“Here is your drink, sir.” The green-eyed android had returned, startling Hank slightly out of his thoughts. Having the grace to look embarrassed he watched as the android placed a paper coaster down on the table, and a glass with ice on top of it, filling the glass with an expert pour. The android made like it was going to take the bottle with it, but Hank held up his hand, “I’d like to have the bottle here please. I’ll pay for it tonight.”

The android smiled politely and sat the bottle down in front of Hank, “Of course sir, wave for me or press the button on the table if you need anything else.” 

Hank nodded and mumbled a quiet, “Thanks” before looking back up at the stage, taking a sip of his drink and feeling himself relax for the first time all day.

\---

What felt like a few hours had passed and Hank was well on his way to drunk. As the evening went on, more and more people had filtered into the bar until it was decently half full. Thoughts drifted in and out of his mind, about his earlier case, about the things he needed to do. Most of all though, he thought about the music. Jazz had always been a deep love of Hank’s, he could remember the first time he’d gotten to use his grandpa’s record player, Ella Fitzgerald’s beautiful voice playing over the speakers. From that day on he’d been hooked, and he didn’t regret it at all. 

The androids onstage had been playing songs back-to-back since he’d arrived. He supposed that was probably a perk to being an android, your fingers and lips and lungs didn’t get tired the way a human’s would. Was probably good for business.

Just as he was thinking this, the band finished a song and ceased playing, the trumpet player coming up to the mic.

“We are now going to have our vocalist come on stage, the evening treat you’ve all been waiting for, The ever elegant, Silver Songbird!”

The now much larger crowd clapped and cheered, a few patrons even whistling in earnest as another android walked on stage. 

Hank had a hard time looking away. 

The man (android, he tried to remind himself) that had walked onstage was a thing of unearthly beauty. It wore a perfectly tailored suit, accenting it’s slim body. The cuffs and lapels were a metallic silver, as well as the undershirt. A thin black tie perfectly complimenting the look. The android itself had quite the handsome face, smooth even features with soft, deep brown eyes collecting the world's colors. It’s hair was slicked back almost completely, a small lick of it curling onto it’s forehead. Hank felt how dry his mouth was as he tried to swallow, realizing his mouth had been slightly open as the android had walked onstage. He shook his head, downing the last of what was in his glass before pouring himself another, the bottle now half full.

The android, who now stood where the trumpet player had been, took the mic and smiled. It blinked a few times, and Hank would have thought it was from the stage lights, had it not been for the fact that androids don't even need to blink in the first place. Seemingly as if on cue, the band began to play. It was a song he recognized, one he’d heard countless times on one of his records at home.

_Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone._   
_Without a dream in my heart._   
_Without a love of my own._

Hank felt his breath leave his body just as the words left the android’s lips. He’d heard good ole’ Frank sing it hundreds of times but it was something else coming from this new voice. Soft and sweet and even, steady reverberations and perfect pitches. Apparently Hank wasn’t alone in how he felt because when he managed to tear his eyes away for a moment he found that the entire lounge had people gazing at the android as if it were the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen or heard.

As the song continued on, Hank found himself taken away by the music, and that androids voice. Letting himself relax into the plush leather cushion of the booth, playing with the glass in his hands, only drinking from it occasionally. When the song ended, and the band began playing another, Hank stayed. When the bottle ran out and the crowd began to thin, Hank stayed. And when at last the lounge began to close for the night, Hank only moved to call an autocab, knowing full well his head was too fucked to drive back home. It’d be expensive as shit but he’d rather not drink and drive, considering his history with car accidents.

When he got back home fell into his bed, he could still hear that voice, and see the silver sparkling behind closed eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced in this chapter is Blue Moon, by Frank Sinatra: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru_AxV8q1Zs

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you can! they really help encourage me to keep writing more, and I have a lot of trouble with self motivation so I need your help!


End file.
